Kunstmuseum Den Haag has a treasure chamber of over 160.000 pieces of art. Here we work on making the highlights from this collection available online.
Karim Adduchi grew up in Imzouren, in Morocco’s Rif mountains, and works as an illustrator and fashion designer. He studied art at the University of Barcelona before moving to Amsterdam. Adduchi consciously incorporates his personal history and cultural heritage into his work. In 2019 he took part in the official programme of Paris Fashion Week AW 19/20, presenting his ready-to-wear collection ‘Maktub’, featuring Moroccan fabrics, embroidery and prints. Adduchi is proud to show his heritage in his creations, and make a connection with the Berber culture, and thus with his mother. ‘The collection is a process of translating the symbolism and the perception of these women, to give them a voice. There is a strong duality to these women being both fragile and strong, hiding their beauty because it is a treasure. It takes time and knowledge to unravel these women’s look.
‘She Knows Why the Caged Bird Sings’ was all about reconnecting with my original homeland and heritage, focusing on the storytelling tradition of Berber women like my mother, with a special interest in everything that is - traditionally - not being said.'
‘I discovered that I found clothes interesting mainly when they had cultural significance. If someone was wearing a Slipknot or Rammstein T-shirt at high school, you instantly knew what they were into. I myself wore 2Pac-T-shirts to show that I listened to West Coast hiphop. I try to stick to the same philosophy in the things we make at Daily Paper. For instance, we designed a T-shirt with a Western Union logo. That’s nostalgic to a lot of young people from the diaspora, as we grew up sending money back to family in our homeland.
[I wanted to show] that Africa as a whole, with all its different countries and cultures, is more than what you see on the TV news. There are lots of similarities between western and African youth culture. People sometimes remark that our clothes don’t look African enough. That’s mainly down to the outmoded image of Africa that people in the west have.
Africa is a big source of inspiration in our collections. You can see it in everything, from the colours to the prints, graphics and design. In our forthcoming FW20 collection, for example, there are nostalgic African prints, featuring things like old sayings and symbols, typography that is common in Africa on buildings and in street art, for instance. And we have used prints inspired by the natural environment of Africa.
'We don’t focus on specific countries when designing. It starts with a conversation about what we’re thinking about at that moment – sport in Ghana, or protests by South African students. We’ve been to South Africa and Ghana, and made friends and contacts there. We brought those things back with us and translated them into our designs – not literally, we always look for abstract ways of conveying a feeling in the clothes.
The third-culture kids have grown up between two cultures and made a third culture out of them. We notice for example that there are similarities between kids in the African diaspora in cities like Paris, London and Amsterdam. They also feel a connection with our philosophy. We bring these people together at events. We dream of a world without borders where people from different cultures live in unity. We want to inspire people to give something back to the countries where their roots are. For instance, we work with a Somali charity– Elman Peace – and we collaborated with Puma to provide a football pitch in the grounds of Accra Senior Girls School in Ghana.
We don’t incinerate leftover clothes, but sell them in pop-up stores in South Africa. We still have a lot to do, but I’m proud of what we have shown we can do as a relatively small company, and how serious we are about it.
I believe there are constructive and positive ways of working with elements of other cultures. Setting up a collaboration with local talents, for example, like Dior did recently with their fashion show in Marrakech, for which they worked with a well-known African designer.
We often shoot our lookbooks and campaigns in Africa, and we always work with local talent. It think it’s important when you do this to research and try to understand the culture – there are sensitive issues. Sometimes certain prints have a pretty serious meaning and are only worn at funerals, for example. You can soon make mistakes if you don’t know what you’re working with.’
‘My parents fell in love there [= India] in the 1980s, and stayed there. I spent a lot of my childhood there. Every summer we would travel to the UK, where my parents worked at music festivals and we toured the country with my brother. It was quite an adventurous, hippie kind of childhood. They ran an open house, and all kinds of colourful characters came, from drag queens to trans people. I felt really at home in that open-minded community.
I’m an idealist and my work is very socially aware. Ultimately, I want to create a safe environment where people come together, and feel they can be themselves. Clothes are a great way of doing this. You can organise events, or work with like-minded people.
In India I was used to seeing lots of colour on the streets, which I sometimes missed in Europe. But the psychedelic prints actually came about while I was on an exchange in Sweden, where I spent six months at the Swedish School of Textiles. But the Swedish aesthetic is fairly minimalist, and despite all the possibilities, my classmates made very restrained fabrics in neutral colours. I couldn’t understand why. You have the whole rainbow, and all that opportunity, and you make a simple grey fabric?! From that point on I used all the bright colours I could find, almost as a form of protest.’
‘The Future Tribe grew out of a longing to take a new and innovative look at traditions, culture and humanity. It is a Human Tribe, which sees its people in relation to the world as the greatest good. From a personal perspective, this narrative collection was created to open society’s eyes to today, and to the future.’
‘I mean, I'm a gay man, and I'm a gay Black designer. Living in Nigeria for the past five years, I feel like I hid this side of myself, but I also feel that it was very important for me to actually show that side of me through my clothes. I don't want to be a gay designer that designs masculine things, it's not my truth. I want to see more vulnerability in men, less power. I think that's very important.
I'm from an African family. We dress up to go out, we dress up to go to funerals, we dress up for everything. I feel like my garments are something that you just have to see, because I'm trying to tell a story that allows you to see us. I'm also not a fully digital person, and I don’t want to try to push myself in a direction I know isn’t my strength at this time. There is no time for that. It's better for me to just stay focused on what I know I can do best and perfect it.
My brand is about preserving culture, maintaining an identity, but it also has a very pragmatic approach. I am concerned with transparency, diversity, and inclusiveness and with bringing people together. My aesthetic is classic and timeless and is combined with craftsmanship. I think that’s the right way forward.
Aso Oke technique is a centuries-old weaving technique from Niger and West Africa, which can be found in a similar form in Kenya or the Philippines. In Nigeria, it is crafted by hand by the Yoruba tribe, which requires two working days to produce one metre of fabric. A manufacturing process that, by the way, is almost extinct.
[The embroidered crepe that is used] comes from Lustenau in Lower Austria. All in all, a very nice combination of traditions between the two countries that goes back a long time. Much of the lace on the fabric markets in Lagos comes from Austria and my mother also ordered hers there. It contains a very personal component for me as it evokes memories. I am very fortunate to come from two cultures and to be inspired by both.
You have to view gender in a differentiated manner. I originally started with men’s fashion and never actually designed women’s clothing before. There were always playful elements you normally find in womenswear. It’s about finding elements that you like and applying them, regardless of social norms. As a gay man, my own identity also plays a role here: what do I want to wear, how do I want to appear? In any case, I quickly noticed that many women also feel the same way.’
‘My name is Sindiso Khumalo. I am a fashion and textile designer based in both London and Johannesburg. Sindiso Khumalo is a womenswear brand with a strong focus on contemporary textile print design. Our vision is to create an innovative luxury fashion label which is heavily rooted in its approach to the textile of the garment. To create a contemporary modern African textile aesthetic that showcases the both the craftsmanship that exists in our continent, as well as pushing new ground into future technologies within the textile environment.
I have two main ambitions as a designer. The first is to build a global stockists list and have my products distributed to a big global audience, showcasing the creativity of our continent to a wider audience. The other ambition is about empowerment. I work with Cape Town-based seamstresses for my production and local Zulu craftswoman in rural areas of Kwazulu Natal for some of my textiles. It’s very important that my designs have an empowerment aspect behind it. South Africa has 25% unemployment, yet vast wealth of craft and resources. For me it’s about creating partners and working to produce luxury pieces with local specialists.
We have such a vast wealth of creativity and resources on our continent. It’s important to tap into it and use your international platform as an opportunity to showcase and develop these resources. Make local, think global.
For me, the work that I produce is a love letter between myself and my ancestry, and looking at the inheritance that they’ve given me. It’s a past, future and present conversation that I’m constantly having.’
Tomo Koizumi is known for his voluminous hand-made creations in Japanese polyester. As a child he was fascinated by origami, and wanted to become an origami artist until he realised that he loved colour more than paper. He now works with colourful Japanese polyester fabrics, using a palette of more than 170 colours.
‘As a costume designer, you often have to get fabric last minute, which is why I chose a very common Japanese polyester organza material that can be found everywhere in Tokyo early in my career and I’ve used it ever since,’ he says. ‘I also liked to use deadstock, so there are many colours to choose from, but it is inconsistent in quantity, so I’d be forced to mix and match, which is why my dresses became very colourful.’ During the pandemic, Koizumi has mainly drawn inspiration from Japanese culture. ‘I found this photo off the internet from the Meiji era, when western culture began influencing Japan and brides wore traditional, heavily embroidered wedding kimonos, but with western veils, which I found so cool,’ he says.
For the 2021 summer collection Tomo Koizumi entered into a collaboration with Emilio Pucci, mixing the psychedelic prints for which Pucci is famous with Koizumi’s volumes. ‘I love how Pucci uses so many colours and prints, maybe even too many, but always manages to make them harmonised and elegant.’
‘My name is Lisa Konno and I am a fashion designer based in Amsterdam. I aim to walk a different path in fashion and work on projects that use design to tell socially relevant stories. I started in 2015 by making collections from textile waste that made statements about the unethical habits of the fashion industry. Since the work on the short film NOBU - a stylized portrait of my father - filmmaking became a place for me to express narratives through fashion. It has allowed me to use the optimistic, fun and aesthetic look that fashion can bring to point out human stories, instead of using fashion’s appeal to seduce into overconsumption. Currently I am experimenting with fashion in combination with documentary, ceramics and performance, trying to create flexibility and relevancy in what it means to be a fashion designer. A work in progress that is, as is fashion, ever changing.
NOBU is a stylized portrait of a Japanese immigrant. NOBU is inspired by my father: Nobuaki Konno. Together with Sarah Blok I made a film in which I ask my father about cultural differences while he wears the collection I made for him. The short film combines aesthetics with humour and social engagement with optimism. The collection reflects on Dutch and Japanese identity, caricaturizes cultural misunderstandings and the hype about Japan and at the same time draws an intimate portrait of my father as an immigrant. The designs are based on items of Nobu’s closet such as his old promo T-shirts, vintage kimonos and his favourite raincoat. The collection purposely exaggerates aesthetic clichés that are often used when designers are inspired by Japan: the décor includes a field of over-sized origami tulips and kimono-flowers were used as patches on T-shirts promoting Karate championships.
BABA is the second edition of an ongoing multi-disciplinary project by me in collaboration with writer and director Sarah Blok, part one being NOBU. The collection, the photographs and the short film play with both Turkish and Dutch aesthetic clichés. Ceyland Utlu, a.k.a. BABA is the Turkish father of Serin Utlu. Questions about the role of migration in this life, their father/daughter relationship, loneliness and adaptation form the base of the story. The collection is inspired by items out of BABA’s wardrobe, such as a checked button-down shirt and symbolism out of his life: a papaver flower symbolising his hometown Pörnek, his love of music and poetry in the saz and his own face as a brooch to mark his stubbornness. The rug is used as a symbol of Orientalism, covered with wool prints illustrating his personal identity on top of what is perceived as Turkish.’
‘Mr. Ajay Kumar recognises the work of every individual and community working with the brand and we endeavour to empower them in the process of building good quality handcrafted products. We understand the importance of diversity and equal opportunity and pay fair wages to all our people.
We should move towards a moral economy, a more liveable, sustainable world wherein we incept the holistic concept of real human-nature interaction while celebrating diversity, creativity and freedom. We want to bring about that change in our way of life, in our brand and pass it on to my consumers.
Beyond dissecting the kaleidoscopic possibilities of khadi wool and handloom & khadi cotton, the reality of practising sustainable fashion at grassroots level is crucial. We are committed to using handwoven fabric that has been created by master weavers from various craft clusters in Rajasthan & West Bengal and amalgamating it with the brand’s signature print designs, modern tailoring and contemporary styling.
Reworking Indian cultural heritage and costumes and putting it into a contemporary mould has always been at the core of Mr. Ajay Kumar. We are a proud Indian brand and the brand is for all of those who are looking for something different and modern from India, yet firmly rooted in our tradition and values.’
‘I use collage techniques. My designs are mixtures of discarded high-end design pieces from major brands like Gucci, Louis Vuitton and Balenciaga. And I always work in partnership. Sometimes with multi-brand stores, but I have also done a project in partnership with transgender sex workers in South Africa, the Sistaaz of the Castle. And now we’re doing something with De Spelers, outsider artists with Down’s syndrome.
We live in strange, heightened times for fashion and the idea of the copy. Copying anxiety is rife, with designers striving for authenticity even while they subsume bootleggers into their brand: internet favorite Ava Nirui, once known for her witty rip-offs of designer logos, is now creative director at Marc Jacobs; Dapper Dan, once arrested by the Feds for his beloved bootlegs of designers like Gucci, was ‘copied’ by Allessandro Michele in 2017, only to be hitherto invited by Michele to open a new atelier in Harlem in the house’s name by 2019. Meanwhile, design-critics like @dietprada foster a call-out culture already to publicly humiliate designer copycats faster than you can say ‘fair use’.’
Jerusalem-born Artsi Ifrach is a fashion designer who is better known as Maison ARTC in fashion world. Artsi has found his sanctuary in Morocco on his quest for independence and has been actively creating his ‘one of a kind’ collections since. Artsi – meaning ‘My Country’ in Hebrew and Arabic – lived in Tel Aviv, Paris and Amsterdam before settling in Morocco and has an extensive understanding of multiculturalism. Using colours and prints as his landscape, Artsi’s imaginative designs reflect on space and time, from his childhood memories to the memoirs of nomad.
‘I believe that fashion is a part of art that tells something about us thought a period that meet culture and individuality. I am totally autodidact, I am not working with designing skills, I am working just with creativity and intuition.’
Like his own perilous his designs go to the roots, to the memories. His influence comes from history, culture and traditions. He is searches the past to carry on in the future. He is known for his richness, colourful and eclectic style. ‘I am trying through material that surrounds me to create a story that capture culture, memories, artisan work. The source of the material that I am using is vintage and handmade.
‘I create my pieces with a total freedom, from the state of mind I have at that moment. The point is to be respectful of the past, of the culture and bringing something warmer. In my pieces I want to create a memory that moves me emotionally. Vintage fabrics can match past and present together. Colours, patterns and prints are my landscape.
Napoleon said once “there is a thin line between the ridiculous and the sublime”, I am searching this line every time in every piece. I am always thinking what we would like to have, that we do not have yet as a result, I believe that the strongest part we all have is our individuality. That is what I am trying to do with “one-of-a-kind” pieces as we all are “one-of-a-kind”. ‘I don’t stop dreaming, I live it every day, I don’t think I could do it if I stop dreaming. Walt Disney said “all our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them”. The good news is I have the courage. My name is Artsi.’
Source: Maison Artc, summer 2021
Thebe Magugu’s SS21 collection titled ‘Counter Intelligence’ is inspired by South Africa’s espionage community, and draws cues from a series of interviews the designer conducted with confessed female spies who worked with the country’s old Apartheid government.
‘It got me thinking – what drives one to commit high-treason? I ordered Jonathan Ancer's book Betrayal: The Secret Lives of the Apartheid Spies, and although it beautifully illustrated the underbelly of South African espionage, I wanted to know more. What had happened to Olivia Forsyth? Where was Jenny Miles now? This manic obsession allowed me to trace them down, and not only did they reveal their side of the story, but they contributed assets to the development of the collection. This was a triumph. Spies by nature are meant to be extremely secretive about the business but the ex-spies who I interviewed for the collection were so willing to share and have subsequently become good friends of mine.
My favorite part of creating a collection is figuring out how all the theory translates into a tangible collection. If espionage is about the hidden-in-plain-sight, I think the idea of Trompe-l'œil became an immediate go-to. I wanted to explore details that read as one thing from afar and read as another up-close. An example of this would be look four from the collection. From far, it looks like black polka dots but upon closer inspection, it's actually the scanned fingerprints of Olivia Forsyth, who agreed to have her police-scanned prints as an asset to the collection. There are other hidden details that pepper the collection: a polygraph test, an actual computer virus as a textural finish, the confession of a known South African spy. I wanted these to be as authentic as possible.’
RICH MNISI is a South African based contemporary multi-disciplinary brand founded in 2015 by Rich Mnisi. Initially, it was a creative outlet for Mnisi, hoping to unearth Africa’s hidden treasures while also being youthful, contemporary, and modern. The brand was born from Mnisi’s yearning to connect more deeply with his unique culture and heritage and tell a compelling story through his art – a story of a mysterious past, intriguing present, and reimagined future.
‘This season we celebrate the VaTsonga tribe and shine a light on its rich cultural heritage. Our collection is not only a celebration of the tribe, but specifically her women. The collection is a call-to-action for the protection of women, especially our mothers. The collection pays homage to our Creative Director – Rich Mnisi’s – heritage and is a heart-felt love letter to the VaTsonga people.
In a timeless celebration of the majestic VaTsonga female form, the Hiya Kaya SS21 collection is truly a testament to her beauty, power, resilience, and fortitude. Her essence has finally been brought to the light, for the world to marvel and draw inspiration. We are honoured to have been entrusted to tell her story through wearable art.
So many African artists are starting to come out and be recognised for the amazing work that we do. We create from a place of authenticity and we’re rewriting all these stories about us. Africans’ stories about our families and our history and how culture should be perceived. There’s so much darkness that moulded us and I think now it’s time that the light comes out.
It’s so important to make sure that we lift up all the factories and our models and our local suppliers. It just keeps all of us alive. One of the important things for us is to make sure that the world can also use us and see South Africa as a place to produce in because there’s so much great work that’s happening here.
My definition of success would be how many people you can touch with the work that you do and how much you can contribute to your community. It’s very beautiful knowing that something as simple as creating or assisting someone or whatever, it can change someone’s life.’
‘We have such an amazing culture and it's obvious that people resonate with it, but as a designer, I'm here to tell you you can really get the authentic thing’, said Jaime Okuma, a Shoshone-Bannock and Luiseño artist and fashion designer based in California. ‘Other than some clothing, Natives don't mass produce their work; what you're getting is directly from the hands that made it, and that is incredibly special’, she said. ‘We have to rethink and do a better job on our approach to education — or in another words, calling out non-Natives about do's and don'ts. No one is going to listen to constant shaming and belittling, we can't expect people to support our work if we are constantly bashing or calling them out.
When looking to buy Indigenous, it's important to ask questions like, “Who made it?” and “Where is the artist from?”. If the shop can't answer that, then you probably shouldn't be buying it. And while making an informed purchase is key, so is knowing it's OK to buy and wear Indigenous art and products.
Non-Natives are becoming hyper-sensitive because they don't want to offend anybody’, said Okuma. ‘Of course it is [it's OK to buy their work]. I would never sell sacred things, or designs I shouldn't be using’, said Okuma. ‘Please buy it, if you like it, you can have it. My work is for everybody, Indigenous work is for everybody.’
Originally from the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia, and currently based in Vancouver, Curtis Oland is a Lil’Wat-Canadian garment designer and interdisciplinary artist. His connection to his indigenous Lil’Wat heritage, to the supernatural, mountainous landscapes of his homeland, and his experiences as an international nomad, have created a raw essence of subdued wilderness, that celebrates and honours land and materiality. His work traverses the realms of art, fashion, performance, installation, film, and creative direction, having worked on collaboratively driven projects that allow for diverse and complex story-telling.
‘”Delicate Tissue” is about the precarious and sometimes volatile relationships we share with the Land, and with one another. The flesh and bone of the natural world are sacred gifts to be nurtured and honoured. We should adorn ourselves with ceremonial consciousness, as the spiritual energy of the harvest becomes part of our own story. The threads of our interconnection run delicately deep, and should be woven together with beauty, integrity, and purpose.’
Oland worked with organic cottons, wools, silks, and linens, in addition to animal products traditionally utilized by the Lil’Wat tribe, such as deer and elk skins. He also experimented with contemporary combinations of traditional materials: on a coat, he worked with the textile company Doppelhaus to develop a jute that was felted with wool, then finished it with a fringed horsehair trim. ‘It’s sort of a beautiful monster’, he says. ‘I love it.’
‘My dream has always been to come to Europe and offer my story and experiences . . . and to start a conversation, so that people can understand what it means to be indigenous to a certain place,” he says. “There’s this ongoing preconceived understanding of what an indigenous person is, and more often than not, it’s stereotyped.’
Celeste Pedri-Spade, PhD is an Anishinabekwe artist and visual anthropologist from north-western Ontario (Lac des Mille Lacs First Nation).
On ‘Anti-Pipeline Society Kwe’:
‘In many Indigenous Nations across Turtle Island (North America), there are different societies of individuals that people become part of, usually through some specific act or contribution to their community that is collectively recognized. Each society has what we call ‘regalia’, which are items worn that all have their own spiritual and cultural meaning. Additionally, regalia helps identify its society members. “Anti-Pipeline Society Kwe” is the regalia that was/is/would be worn by all women who have spent time on the frontlines protecting their homelands and waters from violent extractive industrial pursuits. It is comprised of a very large ribbon skirt, which speaks to the strength and resilience of women. The top garment is a body suit that is meant to evoke the idea of wet oil and this oil theme is also in the head piece where I wove black ribbons through a constructed crown.’
‘With this piece I have incorporated aspects of Anishinabe fashion (ribbon skirt, leather belt) with iconic clothing items drawn from mid-17th century Europe (large skirt shape and ruff). This was deliberate because in doing the HERstory work, I aim to envision a different future, one that would hopefully be marked by more productive and meaningful relations between non-Indigenous and Indigenous Peoples of this land. From a design standpoint, I see this work materialized through a strategic decolonial aesthetic that provides a powerful counter-narrative, disrupting colonial histories while placing something in this world that we have yet to see/know/feel. In this vein, I contribute to the decolonial work that Reyes Cruz (2012) articulates as being “about moving towards a different and tangible place, somewhere out there, where no one has really ever been”’.
Source: Reyes Cruz, M. (2012). Ni con dios ni con el diablo: Tales of survival, resistance and rebellion from a reluctant academic. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society, 1(1), 141-157; p. 153.
‘I'm African-American, and I grew up in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, which is basically a large small town. I was fortunate enough to have my parents put me in art classes pretty early on, at the suggestion of my grandmother, and I was always surrounded by people of various backgrounds. My best friends in elementary school were Korean, Jewish, South American, you name it. I've always known variety to be standard.
It's honestly just about letting people in the door and encouraging them to speak, letting them know that their voice is critical to the system's success, and actually implementing that change where possible. It's super simple. Whether it's publishing, styling, writing, designing, production, or finance, we need individuals from a myriad of backgrounds to drive this industry firmly into the 21st century.
We work mostly based on emotion and color, and how those colors are composed and arranged within a garment as opposed to an official theme. This season we looked at a myriad of references — archival, zoomed-in dressmaking references from the ’50s, vintage aspic dinners, exotic animals, and street debris. The best way to explain it: a debutante ball thrown at Stonehenge and illustrated by Dr. Seuss. Huge skirts, specific colors, graphic prints, and strong tailoring.
Color is the way that I see the world, more than any specific reference, any decade, or type of garment, or silhouette. It's a way to make people feel happy. It's what has always made me feel happy. My fifth grade school picture was me in head-to-toe yellow, which looking back, was hilarious. And my mom was like, "I don't know what you're wearing."
My grandmother had a ton of jewellery and she definitely loved it, loved it, loved it. She always dressed monochromatically and presented herself in head-to-toe one color, so whether it was costume jewellery that was red that matched her red suit, or it was diamonds that she wore with an all-white ensemble, it was really for her about self-expression and not really taking it too seriously. That aesthetic and that point of view has manifested itself into the work that I do.’
Ericka Suárez Weise was born in Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia. She is the third generation of a family dedicated to fashion. Her grandmother started with the craft in the 60s, her mother continued with the tradition, becoming a reference of haute couture in Bolivia.
Ericka studied in Buenos Aires and in 2011 created the brand WEISE. In a short time she has become a pioneer of Bolivian fashion, being the first designer to have a red carpet in Hollywood.
WEISE is a brand established in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. The designer Ericka Suarez Weise shows a young and personal vision in her creations using her family heritage in haute couture and elements of the different cultures that coexist in Bolivia.
Weise’s fall 2019 collection is inspired by the Bolivian Ava Guarani community of Tentayape, where the power of a culture and it’s customs are hermetically preserved. The natural flow of the ‘tipoys’ (typical feminine dresses) are transferred to the garments in different parts of the silhouette, their horizontal colored ‘randas’ and the necklaces of beads are drawn in silk ribbons on the forms of this collection. Weise seeks to perpetuate and preserve Bolivian native culture through design.
‘Throughout my childhood, and in my life in general, what has evoked love most strongly for me is my family, my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents — incredible couples who really built things together. My family provided a model that gave me faith in love.
For me, everything is based on love; two people in love can build anything and make something out of life together. It goes beyond generations and the zeitgeist. It’s lasting and essential.
There are many ways to love someone. It’s not necessarily the domestic model of the couple with children. A couple can be fertile in many ways — through artistic projects, through dialogue. It can take on very different forms. Then there’s also self-love, which is extremely important. There are people who build their lives through their work, who don’t need to be with someone else to grow and be fertile and creative. And that’s very beautiful, too. Love encompasses a lot of things, and it’s not necessarily only between two people.
My family heritage is ever-present and inspires my sketches, patterns, colors, and flowers a great deal. Initially, de Vilmorin was a family of botanists. I’ve always included a lot of flowers in my work. Even in my silhouettes, in general, there’s a rather sophisticated quality. I try to strike the right balance between this classic, fashion — even high fashion — heritage, and something contemporary, of the present.’
‘4Kinship is my soul journey. I believe that there is power in our choices, and that all of us have the power to make change for good. My personal history has shaped my mission to make change for good.
I am the daughter of a full-blooded Navajo, and my family comes from the Bisti Wilderness-Chaco Canyon region. I am deeply committed to helping Indigenous makers and artists find opportunities to create with 4Kinship.
After a career of designing fast fashion clothing destined for landfills, I arrived at a place of creating with consciousness. I have long believed in sustainable design processes—handmade, restored and repurposed vintage, one-of-a-kind upcycling of textiles. 4Kinship is built on these tenets and fueled by my desire to honor my Indigeneity, to protect our sacred lands, and to help others. As the 4Kinship team and I travel the world collecting beautiful treasures, I invite you to journey with us, to be a part of our experiments in fashion made in a more soulful way.
4Kinship is made up of a community of hands working together to craft each unique piece and carry the stories of another time to you. We are a small team of artists and makers around the world, including Indigenous artists from Dinétah. We are lovers of old things, inspired by the energy of vintage textiles. We can feel the lives they’ve lived before they’ve arrived in our hands, and we seek to continue this life cycle. With each 4Kinshipgarment, we creatively approach the upcycling process to repurpose for the future.
Being conscious, being empathetic, helping those that are more vulnerable than you; not having such a focus on wealth and ego, but to have a sense of community and service. These are the Diné lifeways; this is how we move through life. Even now, the healing pathway for me is through k’é, a Diné word that means “kinship.” It means that through communities, through being this way together, we can heal going forward.’